Tis the time of year and best opportunity for artist and commissionees alike~ Since my expertee is in character commissions, anything involving is good ;) Anything other information and questions, you can reach me through a PM here or refer to contact information if you prefer that. You all have an awesome 4th of July today and a great summer! ^_^ Hope to hear from you.

…It was true that D’Minataur had raided the old castle from the local lord keeping it, but that had been nearly a full cycle ago. No one would want such a heap no longer of strategic use unless save men like himself needed a base of operations. Why then the slaughter? The madness of death at an unseen hand? Balen couldn’t tell how many there were, best he could do now was keep his guts in and summon the strength and make it to the lower levels of the keep. He’d be safe there.

The confusion allowed Balen to hobble his way within the fort walls and avoid even the remote chance of being suspected deserting his brothers. Bandits had an odd sense of honor that only applied when one’s own life wasn’t endangered. His leaders now, two siblings, were different. They demanded unity, trust and brotherhood. Ideals meant nothing to Balen now, not when his bowels threatened to pile on the floor.

Looking back it all seemed pointless now. He could hear wailing and eruption of stone and furn drowning them out. Growing closer like a rampaging beast down these narrow halls ran the blood cold. It would have been better to die like a man than a hapless coward. He had drawn his weapon on the lookout and likely fell out of sight. He could see just ahead through the arcade something gleam brighter than the sun flickering down between the columns.

What looked to be a spark or trick of the eyes burst into an array of flames that sent ashen forms flying into the stone walls. Balen’s tongue had dried as it gapped, eyes unblinking in the noon’s warmth. How peaceful the day had seemed, but now he watched agog as his allies scattered to dust over the walls and floor….

Just before reaching the bottom steps, there was silence. No doubt she guessed the game. It was obvious what was coming though much sooner than I expected. Her head darted around the scroll with a shout and with that, the game was lost. Mila and I shrieked at being found out with little delay.

“Oh, boo on you!” I protested, having our fun spoiled.

“Boo on you!” Mila mimicked, dropping down at my side.

Miriam raised a brow and shook her head as if any less was expected. “Seeing as Mila went to answer the door and ends up playing on the desk, which she knows not to do, it’s not hard to guess who’d behind it—not to mention I can always tell when you’re near, Rema.”

Taking notice of her ensemble of a simple yet elaborately designed close-bodied gown of dark blue gracing her shapely figure, a silk mantle draped round her shoulders. In her hair were light-blue ribbons that began the particular fashion, her neck accented with a choker patterned after the dress. Her neckline fell temptuously to a small amount of cleavage, which would not have earned much attention if not for her gracious endowment. Her gold stomacher outlined with black lace before it all was completed by a petal skirt and petticoat.

“And why exactly am I staring at you?” Miriam asked curiously.

“That doesn’t answer itself? Perfect welcome, anyhow.”

“To be honest, I’m relieved you didn’t forget what today was. Least I know your priorities were in order…” It was almost as quick a change as she had snuck up on us, her demeanor switching entirely soon as she set her sights on me.

I figured as much and for a moment was hoping I’d avoid the one thing sharper than her fangs; her piercing tongue. “That’s fine, but you’re going to have to take it back once you see what’s in store,” I assured Miriam. “It was more than for a good reason.”

“Reason is either the progress of the wise or muddle of fools.” Miriam remarked dismissively.

“I like the way you argue. Even when you do, you still smile at each other.” Mila said looking up at us approvingly.

“That’s how people that love each other argue, love. Now if you love me, you’ll finish getting ready so we aren’t late.”

“Oh, okay.” Mila submitted apologetically and scurried away. She turned to me just partway up the steps, likely remembering her gift and grinned before dashing on.

“I don’t think I’m going to be able to make whatever you have planned. Why not just give it to me tonight, unless…”

“Not that kind of gift,” I finished, irritated with my poor timing. Being impulsive is something the military stamped out of me, but this was different. I haven’t forgotten that adventurous little girl that dreamed of this life, however different than imagined. “I’ve never asked you to change your plans before, not even for the smallest thing. This time, I have to show you before anyone else. You’ve wanted it a long time and it’s only fitting. We can still drop of Mila since mama is at my place.”

“She is?” Miriam was puzzled as to what I was hinting at, drumming her fingers on her hip. She studied the pendulum clock for a few seconds, then the floor, back to me. With a shrug she sighed, “Fine then. If you’re going to dress it up in such a way, it better be worth it.”

“Don’t seem the ungrateful sort,” I smirked, more than delighted. “Unless what you going out for is that important—”

Before I could ask further about it, Mila bounded down the stairs in her long feather-patterned shawl and parasol.

“All set then?” she asked Mila, to which she nodded.

“Yes, maerta.”

We met the waiting carriage by the bridge and dropped Mila by the commune gate. “Tell your gandmama we’ll be back before evening. Oh, since she familiar with it, tell her the milk, butter and cooking wine are in the pantry hatch.”

“I will!” she cheered.

“You remember which building it is, yes?” Miriam called after her.

“Yes, come back soon!” She waved goodbye as she bounced away with her parasol dancing overhead.

A break in the heavy gray clouds downcast the ember sunlight over the city, while darker ones linger still a ways in the distance. Rain ran down the roofing while those tacking shelter underneath carried on their conversations and hurried their business before the heavier rains came. I could see the round dome of St. Petro’s Cathedral enshrined at the base with small spire cones and cross affixed copula sitting atop the main dome.

North Saggio was situated below Esparasa Mountains, a long chain of ridges separating southern Catheel from the north, a natural defense only accessible through Carogne[1] Desert, three passes guarded by forts and the more vulnerable western side bordered by Rayne. South Saggio is connected by the Edige river two hundred breadths down and a port extension of the capitol. Besides the political split, North Saggio combines Isalmian and Dalomos, in aesthetic and domestic culture.

I remembered to ask if she was going back to one of the theatres to audition even after all she went through.

“Are you asking that now after whisking me elsewhere?” she asked rhetorically.

“You know why I’m asking, Miriam. I know that’s the one thing you’ve wanted more than anything, but really? It’s only been five moons.”

If the world were a different place, there are four definite professions that Miriam could secure without fail, though I could say that of many things she shows expertise. None is exaggeration and if simply swayed by my affection for her, I’d agree to a point; her cooking. I’ve had the opportunity to eat the finest cooking within the palace walls, abroad and at my mother’s table. It’d be fair to say you can’t compare someone with a hundred plus years developing their culinary skills handed down…but I will anyhow.

What has been understood as second nature for Penumbra and one of their primary fears. Their innate prowess with magic. Unlike cooking, this I was able to understand, but have reached my mental limit. Even though as an umbra[2]it exceeds normal huema, it is still dwarfed by what I sense from Miriam and even her mother, those many years ago. Naturally they would be the leading scholars in the arte, but there would sooner be hunts than ever that be the case.

Being of a royal bloodline and woman of Arcturus, mastery of the palette was an essential skill a mother graced her family and guests. I remember Cachusa telling me how she hated it until she married and Miriam picked up her father’s love for food. Descending from the man that harnessed the element of the abyss, magik was the Arcturus inheritance, birthright and obligation. However, seaming was uniquely passed down from mother to daughter.

Uncommon for a Penumbran noble to pick up a skill primary among the heritage of artisans in their culture, it was something Miriam’s mother taught herself. Again, I am far from boasting when I say I’ve never known the quality she can weave even with the poorest materials. My uniform was designed by the best Isalme has to offer, but even when the eye of Princess Aosta notices the difference, it says something. Aside from Miriam’s business, she does receive commission requests from not only the highness herself, but other noblewoman and men I’ve promoted her work to.

With all that said, singing is the one thing that truly is her own. She would tell me it was just something she did playing by herself, repeating the nursery and children songs Cachusa sang to her. I’d imagine it was more than just a tune if her parents took notice young as six, thenceforth encouraged. Opportunities at home gatherings presented themselves, yet she was never old enough to perform onstage. She said she was promised a part in a play for when she was at least twelve, but that never came.

It would seem that experience has haunted her ever since, forming Viktoria in her mind to harbor those memories. I knew them both and grew to understand their distinctions. Part of me wished the same, to escape what Miriam herself was innocent of. We had only but recently made up the lost time since we parted ways and less Miriam regained her whole self, but with her past as a prominent courtesan…The irony of it was the same men she auditioned happened to be former clientele, but she refused to blackmail her way onto the stage.

First time I've used this and delayed if you ask me. Well, art-wise, I've got a bunch more freetime than I used to with juggling work and writing my story, so I plan on at least having one drawing per day from now on. Reason I'm buckling down so much now is 1) Improving and practicing (though need to do more sketches and upload them to one thread) 2) Build my portfolio 3) FInish my portrait illustrations for my story 4) I recently opened a Patreon account which my have been premature >_> Didn't quite realize you needed a following of supporters BEFORE going on there, not obtain them from there. I love drawing and writing and want to make a living at it, or at least get my work out there. If my art isn't up to calibur yet to garner patrons, I hope soon it will be. Juggling bills, food and art supplies like tablets and the like isn't pleasant, so I hope this is a good remedy and option for me. PLUS, I get to share artwork that will only be exclusive to my patrons, so that is a neat treat for them among other rewards~